April 16, 2011
Florida Warblers are moving into the little log cabin in the dead tree by my porch. Awesome watching them at work. The long stream falling from the door opening is made up of pine needles, Spanish moss, and my hair. I put hair from my brush on a tree limb for the Titmice, but it seems the Warbler likes it too.
One birds watches while the other puts nesting materials in the house. A squirrel got nosy and tried to look in and the Warblers took turns diving at him. The squirrel, I call Peanut, was certainly crying for help.
Today, April 30, I am watching the Pine Warbler's as they spend more and more time in the bird house. I've found these birds very private, thus keeping a low-profile. I finally was able to snap a couple shots--but at a far distance, So they might not be as good as I'd hope. But I'll keep trying.
I think the female stays in the house more now; and I wonder if she is sitting on eggs.
I've really learned to respect the Pine Warbler. When they started moving in, it seemed right out-of-the-blue. I had not seen them at the bird feeder, nor the bird bath. They came, scoped out the bird house, built a nest there. I still haven't seen them at the bird bath nor feeder.
I understand that sometimes these birds will go to a feeder, but usually they like to eat bugs and grapes. Well, they are in the right place here. There are oodles of wild grape vines over this property. I just wonder, since they don't go to the bird bath, where do they get water. I did see one of the birds out back a few days ago when I had a sprinker on watering my garden.
I read also that Pine Warbles rarely use nesting boxes, like the little log cabin hanging in my dead tree. I read they like to build nest among Spanish Moss. Well, this they are certainly doing here. The dead tree where the cabin is located is covered with Spanish Moss. When one of the Warblers come out and sit in the dead tree moss-covered limbs, it is nearly all camouflaged.
Baby birdies are on my mind now, and in my heart... Yey!
Today, Sunday I've found the male Warbler is getting braver--or at least he is becoming more visible. Still, he hasn't utilized the bird bath nor the feeder. However, he sat for a few moments on a branch close to the feeder and looked at it before flying away. Maybe he is planning his trip to it.
Two big black crows worry me. They have returned time and time again to the dead tree where the Wablers' nest hangs. I don't know if they are out to rob the nest and its eggs, or if they are considering visiting the bird bath. It has been quite dry here in Florida this spring.
Today, May 2, The male Wabler hid himself in a the close-by evergreen and looked at the bird bath with a water sprinkler in it spraying clean water. He didn't go there.
The Warbler was out of sight when a cute little innocent squirrel came scurrying down the tree. He was, I guess, too close the the Wabler's log cabin. Out of nowhere, it seems, the Warbler began to dive at the squirrel, causing cries of help from my little fury friend. A couple Cardinals happened to be sitting on branches of the dead tree. They got all excited with the commotion and started screeching and flying...
So now I can't stop watching the birds. I know I should be working on my new novel and I will, I will. Guess I better do it in the middle of the night. I'm too tuned into the birds! I love them.
May 13,
Yesterday evening I turned the water sprinkler on so it sprayed the evergreen tree and other vegetation surrounding the birdbath. The trees were singing with birds of various breeds spreading they feathers in the mist and dances on sparkling limbs everywhere. There were Tufted Titmice, Carolina Chickadees, American Chickadees, American Goldfinch, a Dowdy Woodpecker, another larger red headed Woodpecker, Blue Jays, male and female Cardinals, Doves…
Mister Warbler stood on the bird house perch.
He tweeted something like: “Missy, I think we moved into an amusement park!” But he didn’t join the other birds in play. Just stayed up there and watched and studied.
I just walked into my bedroom and saw one of the Pine Warblers, female I’m quite sure, drinking from the birdbath. First time I’ve seen either of the Warblers taking advantage of the amenities offered in my own personal bird sanctuary.
The baby birds were hatched a few days ago. Don’t know the exact day. Must have been where I saw more activities going on at the bird house. Both were busy traveling in and out. Then I walked by and heard chirping, so that tells me there are chicks; it’s so exciting.
I tried to take a picture of the babies when I thought the parents were, perhaps, out to lunch. But, all I could snap was an adult wing feather.
I’ve worried some about the huge black crow that comes to the dead tree calling. Hope he doesn’t take too much offence when I shoo him off.
I’ve seen Carolina Chickadees take a wrong turn and go inside the bird house, but they come out nearly instantly. On a moss covered limb, Daddy Warbler went after a Blue Jay. They didn’t fight, but the Jay didn’t bother the bird’s cabin, either. I've also watched the Warblers run of female Cardinals.
And nowadays, the squirrels are not allowed even on the tree trunk and they get runoff by the Warblers. Wouldn’t have believe it had I not seen it with my own eyes.
May 14
Coffee on the porch with the birds and squirrels is an awesome thing. First thing I saw brought a laugh. Two squirrels were playing at the bottom of the dead tree; one chased the other onto the trunk and daddy Pine Warbler just happened to be watching from somewhere out-of-sight. Withing seconds he was diving into both squirrels. They couldn't scramble fast enough!
I've been trying to slip up to snap photographs when I think mommy and daddy are out. I've managed to get a couple but wouldn't have been surprised if I had not gotten hammered by these brave birds.
I plan to drive to Georgia tomorrow. I know when I return the young birds will have flown-the-coop. But I hope the Warblers will remember their stay here as plesent; and I hope so much they will return next spring. I really come to respect this handsome bird.
